British Prime Minister David Cameron found himself in a tight place last year when he proclaimed during a radio interview: “The trouble with Twitter, the instantness of it – (is that) too many twits might make a twat.” Now I’m always impressed when a Conservative goes down into the vernacular (can you imagine Stephen Harper mouthing the T-word?), but Cameron had a bigger point (sorry Stevie boy).
I don’t know about you, but my little birdcage is constantly being rattled these days by tweets from twits who think they’re going to win a big travel prize by spamming their friends (or in my case idols) with promotional messages. I love all my little Pumpkins, but a retweeted shill isn’t going to make me all warm and fuzzy about any product – and even less so about the dupe who sends it to me.
It’s like that friend who’s always inviting me to parties where they sell what used to be known as ‘marital aids.’ “Why are you doing this?” I asked her. “So I can get free toys!” she enthused. Well, I’ve got news for that sister and other shills: the only toy I need is a boy-toy, and for your own solitary pleasures you can buy your own… or talk to the hand.